


Broken Wishes

by Liza_Taylor



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza_Taylor/pseuds/Liza_Taylor
Summary: They were in different houses but built up a friendship, a promise was made at the goddess tower to be friends until death parted them. A simple promise to keep, at least that's what Sylvain thought until the war happened...~~~~~~~~~"She turned in his direction, a bow in hand. Sylvain skidded his horse to a stop, his lance falling limply to his side. He knew her anywhere, those gray eyes always lit up when he read her works. Those were the hands that created those stories, those shoulders he had put his arm around on numerous occasions. The girl he had not seen since this war began."~~~~~~Ship tease between Sylvain/Bernadetta(or friendship, it can go either way).
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Bernadetta von Varley, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	Broken Wishes

Sylvain first met Bernadetta during the first month of his time at Garreg Mach’s officer’s academy.

It was a seminar that anyone could attend, no matter the house. He was the only member of his friend group that decided to go, it was a lecture by Manuela and he partly wanted to go to have an excuse to stare at her. Sure the Professor had a nice rack herself but he liked to spice things up once in a while.

He had wasted time chatting up a girl in the hall and by the time he arrived, most of the seats were taken. After a bit of debating of where he would sit, he chose to sit next to the mousey girl that sat by herself in a corner seat. Her hair was a mess, her clothes so baggy that it probably added at least five pounds. Weirdly enough, her calves were exposed but the shorts under the skirt ruined any illusion of it trying to be sexy.

Definitely not the kind of girl he would be caught dead with.

However it was the only seat open next to a girl so he took it. “You mind if I sit here?” he asked with a slight purr to his voice.

She looked in his direction with wide gray eyes. “Oh, uh, sure.” She shifted over slightly despite the fact there was definitely enough space between the chairs. Sheesh, was this girl skittish or what?

“Name’s Sylvain, Sylvain Gautier.” Out of habit, his name slipped out. Despite her appearance, she was a girl and girls sometimes were more friendly once they knew his name. Or they were willing to jump in bed with him as his reputation of being a womanizer was already spreading around the campus.

“Bernadetta Varley,” she stammered out. “Everyone calls me Bernie though..”

Bernie huh? What a dumb name. Well now he had a name to a face to know who to avoid. Well, it should be easy enough since she was in a different house.

That’s what he thought until a month later when he stumbled upon her scurrying out of the library after leaving a handmade book behind. Curiously, he had opened it and could only stare in shock at the wonderful story written on the inside. A story of a brave heroine struggling to vanquish her foes in a world that was against her. The words jumped off the page, one page flowing into the next.

_“and then she looked him in the eye and whispered those words that he was dying to hear.”_

Sylvain turned the page and was met with a blank sheet. No way, it wasn’t finished!? He needed to know what happened next! The heroine had vanquished so much evil with her blade of justice and it looked like she was _finally_ going to confess to her love interest. He needed to know if they were going to end up together or not!

He closed the book, realizing it was getting late. Thankfully the library was always open otherwise he would imagine the librarians would yell at him for staying here so long. He hurried back to his room, the handmade book held protectively against his chest. Tomorrow he would give it back to her and ask to know what happened next.

***

Or at least, that was the plan.

Bernadetta was fast. Unnaturally fast when she didn’t want to get caught. Whenever he tried to catch her in the halls, she would flee in another direction, making an excuse or another to why she couldn’t stay and talk to him.

The one time he slept with Dorothea he asked her what was Bernadetta’s deal.

“You really shouldn’t talk about another girl while with me,” she scoffed.

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “It’s not because I want to have sex with her.” He nuzzled Dorothea’s neck to help placate her.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure it’s not. Well, Bernie is always like that with people she doesn’t know or thinks she’s going to get in trouble.”

He frowned. Well, what was he supposed to do about that then? “Can you let her know I just want to talk to her? Just for a few minutes.”

“You? Talk to her?” Dorothea laughed.

He shut her up with a forceful kiss.

However, despite Dorothea’s bitching, she came through for him and set up a meeting between the two of them in the library.

Bernadetta approached him slowly, like a girl sent to the gallows. Her shoulders were pulled inwards, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She looked like a rabbit ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“Here.” Sylvain held out her half-finished manuscript.

Her eyes widen and she snatched it from him, that unnatural speed in full play again. “What…you…”

“It’s super good!” he said quickly. “I loved the story and all of the adventures the heroine got into. Especially the whole section with the carriage and how she took it over and met her love interest, which by the way, I totally hope they get together.”

She looked down at her book in disbelief and then at him. “You liked it?”

Sylvain nodded. “I loved it. Every second of it. I just wanted to tell you that. I know it probably took a lot to meet up with me.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his reputation probably worked against him in this case.

“T…thank you,” she stammered.

“If you wouldn’t mind, whenever you write more, I would love to read it. No pressure though.”

She nodded before fleeing as fast as she had come.

Well, he shouldn’t have been surprised by that to be honest. At least he was able to tell her how good her work was.

***

Three weeks later, he was chatting up to a girl, buttering her up to have a fun time later that night when Bernadetta walked up to him, clutching a homemade book.

He dismissed the girl with a quick comment and focused on Bernadetta. “Hey, what’s up Bernadetta?”

“Uh, well…” She held out the notebook. “I wrote more,” she said softly. “Maybe…you could tell me what you think?”

He gently took the book and found where he was. He read the first line and gasped. “He was working for her enemies!?”

A tiny smile lit up her face and he had to admit, she was sort of cute.

After that they fell into a rhythm. She would write more to her story and come and find him and he would read it and give his honest opinion on the work. Which was truthfully more gushing about how good her writing was.

Over time their meetings evolved to more than just talking about her works. Sometimes to spar in the training ground, her teaching him about using a bow and him teaching her about using a lance. Other times they did homework together, Sylvain helping Bernie a lot more than her helping him.

It was an odd friendship Sylvain had to admit, even Felix commented it was so unlike him to befriend a girl for something more than sex. He almost punched Felix for that comment.

During the night of the ball, Sylvain danced with Bernie the most and left early with her when the crowd became too much, the two of them climbing up the goddess tower for a moment of peace.

“You know, it is said that if a man and woman go to the goddess tower tonight and make a wish, it’s bound to come true,” said Sylvain.

He sat cross legged on the stone floor, Bernie next to him. It was a cold night and he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in closer to share some of his warmth. Being from Faerghus, the nippy cold air didn’t bother him but Bernie was from the south and he could already see she was shivering a little. He wasn’t nicknamed a personal heater for nothing!

“A wish?” She thought for a moment. “What would you wish for Sylvain?

“Hmmm,” he thought it over. “I don’t really know what to wish for. Oh, maybe for your book to get published and you get lots of sales?”

“What? Seriously?” She looked at him in disbelief. Over the past couple of months, she had slowly come out of her shell and around him she regularly spoke her mind and stated her opinions. It didn’t seem to translate to others though and sometimes he had to step in and help her out.

She was thoughtful though. Thoughtful, observant and caring. She was the first to come up to him after he saw his brother was transformed into a monster and asked if he was alright. Over time he found about the son of a bitch that was her father and what he did to her. Sylvain had never wanted to hurt a man more than in that moment.

Alas he had to hold back, for Bernie’s sake.

“Of course,” said Sylvain. “Your book needs to be published! The world needs to see it. And don’t fight me on how good it is Bernie!”

“I know, I know, I won’t. Seems like a waste of a wish though.”

“Well, what would you wish for then?”

Bernie thought for a moment. “Well…oh, I know!”

He waited but she didn’t elaborate. “So? What is it?”

“It’s super embarrassing,” she stammered.

“Huh? No fair! You have to say the wish, I don’t think it works otherwise,” protested Sylvain.

“Does it work like that?”

“Honestly I’m not sure but it makes sense. Come on Bernie, tell me!” He leaned his head on top of hers and shifted so more of his weight was on her.

“Sylvain, I’m going to fall over!” she squealed.

“Tell me Bernie,” he whined. She was the only one he could whine to, the only one who knew he was being playful and purposefully annoying.

She looked at the ground, her face taking on a reddish tint. “It was a wish that we could be friends once we were out of the academy,” she murmured.

“Wait, really?”

“I mean, we’re going to busy with stuff and whatnot.”

“Of course we’re going to be friends.” Sylvain gave Bernie a quick squeeze. “I’m going to visit you all the time. I have to be the first person to read your newest works. It’s in our friendship contract.”

She giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“So, we’re going to be friends until death do us part or whatever. Listen, your dad is going to get tired of me from all the times I visit.”

“I look forward to it,” she said with a smile. “It’ll make it more bearable.”

Sylvain nodded. “Your dad is going to have a room set aside for me. Oh and you can come visit me. My family’s domain has some cool sights on it. I want to show you all of it.”

“Maybe I will.”

“You better. Otherwise I’m riding over there and dragging you out of your room.”

She laughed. “Not if I run away in time.”

Sylvain let out a mock gasp. “Really? You would do that to _me_? Your bestest friend in the whole wide world?”

They looked at each other and broke into a fit of laughs.

“What in the world are we doing?” Sylvain rubbed his eyes. “I definitely think that punch was spiked with wine.”

“Maybe. We’re both acting a little weird. Perhaps we should go back to our rooms?”

“Yeah, we probably should.” He reluctantly released her, already missing her being so close by to him. “But I think we should make that our wish. That we’ll be friends until the day we die.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said with a smile.

A couple months later the war began against the Adrestian Empire.

***

The battle at Gronder Field was a horrible sight. The three factions that had a friendly bout five years ago was now at each other’s throats. It was no longer a fight to defeat, it was a battle to the death.

Sylvain was in charge of capturing the hill, the lance of ruin at his side. With the glowing relic in hand, he cut through the enemies, Edelgard’s men and women that chose to fight by her side. It was going well for the most part, until Edelgard set fire to the hill.

Coughing, he spurned his horse into action, to get away from this place before he succumbed to the smoke and flames. Prince Dimitri was in no condition to care about anyone but himself.

Through the flames and rising smoke, he spotted a figure ahead of him. Most likely another one of Edelgard’s men. He tightened his grip on his lance. They were in the direction of where he needed to go, might as well kill them on the way out.

As he approached, he was able to make out more details of the figure. A thin frame, dressed in purple and gold, the outfit fitting her body. Light purple hair, frazzled due to the conditions but obviously well taken care of.

She turned in his direction, a bow in hand. Sylvain skidded his horse to a stop, his lance falling limply to his side. He knew her anywhere, those gray eyes always lit up when he read her works. Those were the hands that created those stories, those shoulders he had put his arm around on numerous occasions. The girl he had not seen since this war began.

“Bernie,” he whispered.

“Sylvain…” She dropped her bow and coughed, falling to her knees.

Now close enough, he saw parts of her clothes were burned away, the skin charred.

Sylvain jumped off his horse and rushed to her side. “She had to have known you were here. Damn her. Damn it. Hold on Bernie. Please, hold on.” He gently picked her up, noting that she seemed much taller than five years ago.

He set her on the back of his skittish horse before climbing on behind her. One arm was around her shoulders, keeping her close to his chest while the other he used to control the horse’s reins. “Bernie, hey, stay with me okay!? You’re going to be okay but you need to stay awake. Mercedes can heal you.”

He rode his horse hard, dodging patches of burned land. Every couple of seconds he looked down at Bernie. Another coughing fit overtook her, her eyes slowly closing. 

That made him push his horse faster.

He found Mercedes with Annette near the backlines. In the back of his mind he registered the battle was over but that didn’t matter to him right now.

“Mercedes! I need your help!” He jumped off his horse, the animal now frothing at the mouth from the excursion. He carefully pulled Bernie off the animal and rested her on the ground while keeping one arm around her shoulder so he could support her head. She was dangerously still, her eyes closed. “Mercedes, you need to heal her.”

Mercedes hurried over. If she had any question to why Sylvain was carrying around a member of Edelgard’s army she didn’t voice it as she raised her hands to perform the magic and then stopped. “Sylvain…”

“What are you waiting for Mercedes? Heal her!”

She shook her head. “Sylvain, I cannot heal someone who is gone.” She clasped her hands together. “May the goddess watch over her.”

Sylvain stared at Mercedes like she had grown another head and then looked down at Bernie’s still form. “No. No, no. No. She isn’t…” He shook Bernie. “Hey, wake up, this isn’t funny Bernie. This isn’t a joke. You have so many stories to write and I need to read them. We promised to hang out together, I was supposed to piss off your dad and you were supposed to visit the Gautier property. I was supposed to give you a tour.”

“Sylvain…” Mercedes said gently.

Annette put her hand on Mercedes’s shoulder and shook her head. “I think we should give him a moment Mercie.”

Sylvain barely registered what they were saying. He pushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “I told you your hair would look more tamed after some conditioner.” His voice cracked and he buried his face in her shoulder so she would catch all of his tears.

***

They were at war but Sylvain made sure Bernie had a proper burial. On the grounds of Garreg Mach as there was no way he could leave long enough to have her buried on Gautier soil. A few fellow students at the academy joined him for the ceremony including Byleth but Sylvain had a feeling they were there more for a show of support than actually caring about the person now buried in the ground.

Once everyone left, he sat in front of her grave and stared at the marker. “I don’t know what ideas people have about death in the Empire but I hope it’s better that what we have in Faerghus.” He grimaced. “I hope you did not die with regret Bernie. The thought of you wandering in that cold, dark place…”

He shook his head. “What I wanted to say, if you were, you can haunt me if you like. If you get lonely, you can come to me. His highness is being haunted by the people of his past. If they can do it, so can you. Only I’ll listen to every word you say Bernie. You can bother me at any time of the day. That is, unless you’re in a happy place, then stay there. You deserve to be happy.”

He rubbed his eyes. He really thought she had already taken all his tears but there always seemed to be more. “I never did understand his highness’s thirst for vengeance before but now I do. I know you wouldn’t want this Bernie but I need to do it for me. I’ll visit you after the war is over, okay?”

Words said, he turned away from her grave, the tears drying up in its wake as he went to get his lance.

Edelgard would pay for what she had done.

***

While many celebrated the crowning of King Dimitri, Sylvain went to visit Bernie. He had been invited of course, like all of his friends, as he was now promoted as a member of King Dimitri’s personal guard. Thankfully they understood that he would rather spend a couple hours with Bernie than in front of a loud crowd.

“Hey Bernie,” he said.

Garreg Mach was still under construction but, thankfully, the graveyard was kept clean. It probably had something to do with Byleth’s parents being buried here as well but he didn’t want to think too much about that.

He sat down in front of her grave and gave her a rundown of the recent events. “Of course, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, you probably have seen it all from wherever you are.”

Of course no response. Thankfully she had not bothered to haunt him.

“The Professor mentioned to me about some stuff about other cultures. Like how there’s a few cultures out there that believe in reincarnation. That people are reborn again. I don’t know if I believe that per say but if so, I think it would be nice for us to meet again. I would really love to read more of the stories you’ve created Bernie. And…spend more time with you…”

And say all the words he was never able to say to her face.

“I wrote you a story this time Bernie.” He pulled out a small notebook and opened it. His own handwriting stared back at him, words crossed out and the replacements above them. “It’s probably no good compared to your stuff but you have to give me an A for effort alright?” He cleared his throat and began, “Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl…”


End file.
